The Fabulous Misadventures of Clint Barton's Vent Hopping
by WitchWarren
Summary: 05/May: This chapter is basically a crack mish-mashing of my fandoms. Because I only realised recently that BOTH my OTPs have archers in them. WHAT is my life? Now: So this was sitting around on my laptop and since my muse is refusing to cooperate with my OUAT fic I decided to finish this up and hope it unblocks my block. Sorry everyone.


Clint was crawling through the vents near Coulson's office – totally _not_ eavesdropping – when he happened to overhear this; "…god he really is a sexy, sexy archer."

_WHAT?_

The next five seconds were quietest fast hustle-crawl he'd ever executed in his _LIFE_. Coulson could not have said what he thought he'd said.

"So _that's_ your type huh?" There was Hill's relaxed cynicism; this must be one of their after-hours knitting circles in order to make sure their CPUs were up to normal social interactions. And apparently to gossip about hot archers who may or may not be in the vent above them. What?

"It's not like that." Coulson tried to wave her off – _blushing?_ Hot damn. They were now officially on first name privileges, Clint smirked and settled in to hear more. "He's a hero right? Ok. But that's just your basic information and anybody can swoon over that. But it's his _personality_ that's so charming. And it doesn't hurt that he's a natural born charmer. You get that he's a player but he's _honest_, with a _good code_ about doing what's right. And be honest; he makes you wanna flirt back."

Hill – no it was Maria; off-duty and relaxed – tilted her head and made a face. "Mmm-nah, give me the great suit and aura of menace."

"You just like them a little older."

"Well _yeah_. Mr _Gold_."

"Come on; the twinkling blue eyes, the dirty blond hair," up in the vents Clint's smirk grew wider. "The mischievous grin, the playful banter, the arms; woof!"

"Woof?"

"Don't tell me you wouldn't; that is a _fine_ face and form. And the way he's _so_… Uh!"

Clint was close to all out chuckling; _this was delicious_, and was about to ask Phil to elaborate on that last comment about his '_fiiiiine_ face and form' before this;

"Sean is just sexy okay? To quote Tumblr; 'he makes my ovaries go BOOM'."

"Phil, you're a guy."

"Exactly. He makes non-existent female genitalia that I do not have explode. Don't pretend you don't have the same problem when he goes all gallant; 'Use mine for the both of us'. Tell me that didn't make you melt a little inside."

'_Shawn'? Phil was seeing other archers? Archers named _'Shawn'_ what the hell?_

Down in the office the two most stone-cold senior members of SHIELD were having a stare-down, with Maria squirming as Phil pinned her with a disbelieving stare.

"…Ok, fine! My uterus was a puddle of chocolate and my self-respect _literally_ drained out of my body along with every ounce of bitch is that what you wanna hear?"

"So long as you admit it," Phil smirked in triumph. Before _sighing_ _what the hell?_ Clint scowled. "His son too, the way he was so concerned about losing Roland when Neal wanted to use him as bait before. I mean _god_, those moments were brief but you can _tell_ he's such a devoted parent – especially with Marian's death. It just makes me love him even more."

And Clint drooped, having heard enough; Coulson liked a guy with a _kid_. More than that – _loved_ the guy; this widowed single father who just had the bumfuck shitastic luck to be an archer. He was just about to go off and drown in Nat's nearest stash of vodka when Maria started talking again.

"You're still in the middle of the second half of the season aren't you…..?"

"Yeah, well we had all those incidents last year so I was stuck on the bit of the second season before they went on hiatus and missed out on all the Greg-Tamara build up. I'm getting through one episode each Sunday because y'know," He waved his hand with a deprecating grimace to indicate the ridiculous 24/6 schedule Fury had him on before he collapsed every Saturday night and put in about maybe 16-17hours off sleep. Not that Clint was keeping track. Or listening in to conversations between Phil and his handler buddies. What? "I should be done by the time the new season rolls in. Why?"

Maria Hill regarded him for a long moment with the exact same expression Natasha used to stare the Hulk in the face. "…I should probably sit with you during the finale."

Grey eyes immediately sharpen and focus with laser intensity. "What happens?"

"Um…"

"They kill him don't they? I knew it! Regina is never allowed to have _any_ happiness is she? They just take everything she loves. Daniel, Henry, Graham—"

"She killed Graham in the first season."

"It counts! And now they're going to kill Robin too. Oh god, what's going to happen to _Roland?_"

Phil continued to rant about beautiful, independent women who'd already been subjected to enough trauma and the unfairness of life and the general sadism of screenwriters who are utter bastards never giving the public what they really want or teasing them mercilessly or not moving with the true heart and soul of the story but Clint tuned him out to slump – quietly – against the metal in front of the grate.

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A goddamn TV show.

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><p>WitW: Ending it there. PM me if you want to know which writers I was attacking for what because shit my feels. Also I'll take prompts if you have any. This might become a series.<p> 


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